"This man becomes a nihilist and a dangerous one. He plots and plans

for your overthrow, and for the possession of your sister whom he

continues to persecute in many ways. She does not tell you these

things, fearing the consequences if you were to fight another duel. At

last, however, more or less of it comes to your attention, and the

consequence is that you publicly horsewhip him, for which act you are

suspended from attendance at the palace for thirty days. During that

interval a horrible thing occurs. It is at the time when the extremists

among nihilists are rampant, and when the secret police does its deadly

work unquestioned; a time five years ago. People are arrested and

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spirited away, from among the highest and the lowest. Victims are found

in the palace as well as in the hovel. No person is sacred from these

mysterious arrests; no tribunal hears a victim's defense; no official

dares to interfere. Even you may at any moment become a victim of this

awful method. A complaint is lodged against a wholly innocent person,

no matter by whom; it may even be anonymous. In the dead of night

police from the Third Section visit the house of the person complained

against, a search is made, and if incriminating documents are found,

that person disappears forever. Where? nobody knows save those who

carry out the secret decree. I will not worry you with the useless

details; in fact you have had sufficient introduction to the story

already.

"Twice each week since your expulsion from the palace you are compelled

to remain on duty over night, and at last the morning comes when you

return to your home after one of these vigils to find yourself face to

face with a horror which you knew existed, but which you had never

before comprehended. Ah, it is pitiful; but listen. You find when you

arrive, that all is excitement. The servants are running hither and

thither; they whisper among themselves, and at first you can get no

explanation from them. In vain you call for your sister. Frightened

glances, sobs, and groans, are the only replies you get, and you rush

to her apartment, only to find that it is empty--that she is gone. The

room is in the utmost disorder. Clothing is scattered everywhere.

Yvonne's most sacred treasures are strewn upon the floor. The contents

of her dressing case are tumbled in confusion upon the furniture.

Chairs are overturned. The cushions of the chairs and couches are

ripped open. The bed is a ruin, dismembered, torn apart, and heaped in

a corner. The carpet has been pulled from its fastenings, and is rolled

and tumbled into a mass in the middle of the floor. The pictures are

torn from the walls; vases have been overturned; even the French clock,

on the mantel, has been ruined in the awful search, and the very walls

of the room are dented by the hammer which has pounded them in the

effort to find a secret hiding place. You know only too well what has

happened, and yet you do not realize it. You are dazed. You think that

you will awake and find that it is all a dream. You cannot believe that

it is the sleeping room of your own sister that has been thus invaded

and desecrated. At last from one of the older and more trusted servants

you hear the truth, and while he speaks, you listen dumbly,

wonderingly."




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